


burned out flames should never reignite (but I thought you might)

by tsundere_silk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Because he's Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is in love with the Reader, Dean is still in love with you, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, He's such a big softie, I mean, Smut, The reader ain't having NONE of that, and SMUT, and by ruins everything I mean makes the situation x100 hotter, and he's always been kind of bad at these kind of things, and then Demon!Dean happened, and then Demon!Dean kind of ruins everything, and then the Mark of bloody Cain happened, dean winchester appreciation, f e e l i n g s, he WAS a big softie, he also cheats on the Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundere_silk/pseuds/tsundere_silk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean weren’t in an <i>actual </i> relationship, per se. The two of you have never addressed it officially, but still, you thought that you guys were serious enough to the point where you <i>wouldn't</i> find him making kissing faces with some other women at a bar. Apparently, you were wrong, and the fact that you harbor more feelings for the older Winchester then he does for you scares the hell out of you. </p><p>It also kind of pisses you off. Okay, it <i>really</i> pisses you off. </p><p>So you run away. </p><p>  <i>(you've always been kind of selfish, like that.)</i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've been wanting to write a cheating break up/make up fic for a while. And I thought Dean would be perfect for the job-- remember when he cheated on that blond chick in highschool in the broom closet? Remember when Dean was captured by a Djinn and Sam told him he took his prom date on prom night, and Dean said that sounds like him?
> 
> I can't pretend like Dean doesn't have a history of cheating. So I wrote this fic, because I really wanted to write an apologetic Dean who's still in love with you even after you left him. d'aaaw.

* * *

  _ **(burned out flames, should never reignite.** _  
_but I thought you might.)_

* * *

_. . .  
_

“Come on, this will be fun.” A woman with cheaply dyed red hair was giggling as she tugged on the familiar hunters hand, leading him towards his Impala.

It was dark out, and the night air was crisp against your cheeks. You froze in your steps underneath a flickering street light as you watched Dean being dragged out of some bar by a woman in a drunken haze, a woman who he’d more than likely met that night.

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your black jacket as you watched Dean put his hands on her hip and press the redhead against the car.

_'Late night researching? My ass.’_

You heard Dean’s deep chuckle from across the street, and could feel it vibrating through your bones. Disgusted.

“We gotta be real gentle with my baby, alright?” You watched him open the car door, letting the redhead lay in the passenger seat as he ran his hands up her thighs.

The mystery woman was giggling as she tugged on the elder Winchester’s shirt, “ _Shhhutup,_ and get down here.”

Dean’s laughter filled your ears once again, and then there was just sickening silence.

Shaking your head in disgust, you turned on your heel and began to walk back to the hotel you guys were staying at for the night. Dean and Sam found something they thought could be a case in this town, and you stayed behind in the motel when they both agreed to split up and do some research.

You were _so stupid_ , trying to stop by the nearest convenience store while the boys were out 'researching' for the case. Now you just witnessed the most heartbreaking thing you’ve seen, and you had no cherry pie to comfort yourself with when you get back to the hotel.

' _Stupid.. lying.. fucking, Winchester.'_

If he wanted to go to the bar, why didn't he just tell you? Why'd he lie?

Was he _supposed_ to tell you? What _were_ you to Dean, anyways? 

 

You pretended to be asleep when Sam came home that night. You clenched your eyes shut, breathing lightly as you heard him dance around the room quietly so he wouldn’t wake you, before heading towards the shower.

Dean came home about half an hour after Sam.

Sure, he wasn’t out nearly as late as you thought he’d be, but that didn’t mean you were going to forgive him. You know what you saw, and that was Dean making kissing faces with another woman behind your back.

Usually, if you fell asleep on the couch before the oldest Winchester came home, he would wake you up gently and ask if you wanted to share the bed, or if you were comfortable on the couch.

That night, Dean came stumbling in, still drunk. He threw his car keys at the table, too intoxicated to realize he was stomping around and _definitely_ would have woken you if you were actually asleep. Dean plopped down on his bed, and was snoring within minutes.

You pulled your blanket over your head as you listened to the eldest Winchester’s snores.

What were you doing? Why were you still here?

You don’t need the Winchesters help, you’ve been on your own for years. You’d just figured your days being alone were over.

You’d better start counting again.

*

You weren’t sure if Dean was able to tell the difference in your attitude towards him that morning. You spent the whole day brushing him off, and wore your sunglasses in the backseat of the Impala so you wouldn’t catch the eye of either of the brothers as you sped away to your next destination.

Dean’s fingers were tapping on his steering wheel impatiently, off beat to the AC/DC song he was currently blasting through the speakers. You knew him well enough to be able to tell there was something on his mind. You weren't foolish enough to think that whatever was bugging him had anything to do with you.

You wondered to yourself if he even _noticed_ that anything was off between the two of you.

Did he care?

“Hey, [ **your name** ], you getting hungry yet?” Dean finally spoke to you, breaking the silence between you two that you'd kept since you woke up on the couch that morning.

You had your sunglasses on, so you were able to glance into the rear-view mirror to make sure he was watching you, without Dean being able to see your eyes.

You kept your head turned to the window and let out an obnoxious yawn, patting your mouth and ignoring him completely, as if the thought of talking to him bored you. You felt like a student in high school once again, doing whatever you could to passively irritate your teachers since you weren’t allowed to talk back to them.

In this case, you were unable to voice into words how _disgusted_ you were by Dean.

So you ignored him.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean snapped after watching your little stunt. You rolled your eyes, the gesture hidden behind your sunglasses, and continued to stare out the window.

“I _said_ , what the fuck was that?” He asked loudly over his music, turning the stereo off so you could answer him.

 _Ugh_. Just the fact that he was even _speaking_ to you so casually made your stomach churn. Flashes of the redhead pulling him into the Impala, _the car you were riding in right now_ , kept popping into your head.

Overwhelmed by the sudden burn of your anger, and also by the fact that if Dean _kept fucking talking to you_ , you were going to _grab the wheel_ and ram all _three of you guys_ into a fucking tree. Quietly seething with anger, you angrily kneed the back of Sam’s seat, roughly jostling him awake.

“Wha– what’s going on?” Sam asked groggily, head whipping between you and his brother.

You placed your chin in your palm and gazed out the window in disinterest. “Your brother was just asking you if you were hungry, Sammy.” You said casually, ignoring the fact that Sam hated being called ‘Sammy’.

“Oh. Well, uh, yeah, I could get a burger, I guess?” The younger Winchester said, voiced laced with confusion.

You drummed your fingers against your chin, trying to calm yourself down as you quipped sarcastically.

“ _Fan_ -tastic.”

You didn’t need to glance at the rear-view mirror to know that Dean was gazing intently at you, a hurt look across his face. Your stomach churned again in disgust, realization washing over you.

_I can’t pretend I’m okay with this anymore. This whole situation is making me sick. I have to leave._

*

You guys arrived at the motel relatively early. It was maybe 8pm, and Dean was pulling your bags out of the backseat while Sam was heading towards the receptionist to buy a two-bed room.

Quickly sliding out of the Impala’s back seat, you rushed over to follow Sam without saying a word to Dean. Dean paused, peeking over the trunk of his Baby as he watched you go inside after Sam, still ignoring him completely.

He wore a deep frown on his face; Dean couldn’t figure out what it was that had you so pissed at him. He’s felt something off since that morning, and he didn’t like the fact that he was left in the dark about whatever it was that’s clearly bugging you.

Sam returned from the hotel by himself, and Dean shut the trunk of the Impala as he held both yours and his bags. “What was that about?” He asked his brother casually, referring to your sudden disappearance.

The younger Winchester furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, bending down to pickup his backpack. “I don’t.. I don’t know? [ **your name** ] just went in there and got herself a single room. I don’t want to tell her how to spend her money, but we could of handled it.”

Dean sighed. Clearly he was missing something, and he was tired of waiting for you to come out and tell him what’s wrong. When Sam saw you leaving the front desk with your own key in your hand, he shot Dean a sympathetic smile before heading towards their room so he could give the two of you some space.

You approached Dean with a blank look on your face. Dean frowned, worried by your expression. He’s never seen you so _emotionless_ , he’s seen you calm, pissed, happy, vulnerable… but not _this_.

Now, he couldn’t read your expression.

You finally reached him, and crossed your arms against your chest. Dean was still frowning, and he opened his arms so that you could embrace him. He hasn't touched you all day, and Dean was just realizing how often he needed to wrap his arms around you.

You gave him a cold look that clearly said that was the last thing you wanted him to do.

“[ **your name** ], whats going on with you today?” He asked in a gruff voice, genuinely confused.

 You looked up at the night sky. The air was crisp. You wanted to hurry up and get this over with.

How were you going to explain to Dean you never wanted to see him again? He’s _saved your life_ before, for crying out loud. There was no way you could bring yourself to _hate_ him, but you couldn’t let him string you along anymore.

Maybe you were being selfish.

Dean never outright told you he wanted to be with you. He’s told you that you were _everything_ he was looking for, but that was between drunk, sleepy kisses at night after a hunt when the two of you were trying to quietly watch TV while Sam slept on the bed next to you. He’s told you he was glad you were sticking around. Said he’d be thrown off his game if you left. He told you that you work well with them, you’re smart, you listen to directions, you’re brave.

Maybe it was your fault for over thinking his praise. Maybe you were being conceited, you weren’t nearly as important to Dean as you thought you were.

If you really did _fit him_ so perfectly, if you really were _everything_ he wanted..

..why did he keep seeking out other women?

“I got a room,” You answered with a simple shrug, arms folded across your chest as you glanced to the side, unable to meet his gaze.

Dean was openly scowling now, and he clutched your backpack tighter as he took a step towards you.

“Yeah, I can _see_ that. What I wanna know is _why_? This your way of saying you need some space? All you gotta do is say the word, don't need to give me the cold fucking shoulder.”  
  
Maybe this _was_ all your fault. Maybe you should have told him from the start what you saw, instead of keeping silent and letting it eat at you alive.

Last night wasn’t the first time you saw Dean with another woman.

No, the first time you saw him with someone else was weeks after the first time he kissed you. You’d gotten tossed around by some vengeful spirit, and managed to salt and burn the poor thing, but Dean was still upset when he saw you limping back to the motel.

After he’d patched you up, and the two of you laid in bed for hours watching whatever was on the cable TV, he gave you a soft kiss to your lips and gently told you he was so, _so_ glad you were okay.

The kiss had been innocent, but it was enough to put butterflies in your stomach. You and Dean didn’t comment on it, you simply returned back to watching TV, but something had shifted between you two.

Dean smiled whenever you guys made any kind of eye contact. He lingered around for a few seconds too long when he was close to you, and he was fond of throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling your smaller body against his chest when he was in a teasing mood. You tried not to think too hard on these small things, wanting to remain normal with him. Not wanting to overthink your place in his heart.

_Just friends, nothing more._

And then you saw him kissing some blonde passionately against some diner, only a week after he so innocently pecked your lips. You remember quickly turning away, returning to the motel without speaking a word to Dean when he came back from his little one-on-one time with the blond waitress.

 

You slowly took your bag out of Dean’s hands. He reluctantly released your belongings, fingers twitching as he watched you balance the heavy sack on your shoulders.

“Alright, then. I need some space.” You told him calmly.

Dean shook his head, thrown off guard by your dry response.

“..Alright, where the hell is this coming from, [ **your name]**?” He reached forward and grasped your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. There was something off about you, and it was driving him insane. “What’s wrong with you? You won’t even look me in the eye.”

You were too weak.

Now, being forced to see the hurt in Dean’s eyes, you felt your resolve begin to crumble.

You still knew you had to leave him, there was no denying that. But maybe this wasn’t Dean’s fault. He never made you any promises, never told you that he was exclusively yours. You just didn't have the energy to explain why you needed the leave.

"Dean, I'm tired." You told him in a soft voice. It was probably the most truthful thing you've said to him all day.

You were tired of waiting for him to return your feelings. Tired of feeling like there was something wrong with you since he couldn't stop seeking other women's attentions.

Tired of trailing after him like some lovesick puppy, tired of him _stringing_ you along.

You were tired of not knowing what you were to him. Dean's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, not understanding what you were trying to tell him. He began to tug you towards him for a hug, but you abruptly shoved him away.

"Sorry," You mumbled, and Dean couldn't figure _for the life of him_ what it was you were trying to apologize about. You shook your head when he called after you, and you quickly headed towards your own motel room.

That night, you made sure you had all of your belongings together before writing on a yellow post-it note.

 

 _'thanks for everything, fellas_  
_see ya when I see ya.'_

No apology. No explanation.

You posted it on your hotel door and left at the crack of dawn. You were a coward, and you didn't want to confront Dean.

So you did what was best for _you_.

You _ran_.

_(You've always been sort of selfish, like that.)_

* * *

**two years later**

* * *

 "[ **your name** ]?"

Your head turned when you heard a familiar voice call our your name.

Heart skipping a beat, already knowing who it was before turning around, you sucked in a sharp breath as you turned on your heel so you could face whoever it was calling out to you. Your lips split into a soft smile once you saw his familiar green eyes.

"Dean." You greeted gently, despite the sudden quickening of your heart beat.

It's been two years since you've seen Dean Winchester, which was more then enough time for you to get over him. You hoped.

You've let go of any ill feelings you felt for the oldest Winchester when you ran away from him years ago. You've forgiven him for messing around with other girls; it wasn't his fault, he never realized how much you lo.. _liked_ , him. And you couldn't blame Dean for not.. _liking_ , you back.

(Well you could, and you _did_ , for at least half a year after the break up. You were over that now, really.)

Two years have passed, and any ill feelings have been long buried. _Any_ feelings, in fact, and that included anything romanticized you felt for Dean Winchester.

Now, you had no problem regarding him as a friend. _Just_ a friend. If that.

"Fancy meeting you here. If it's about that nest of vamps, I should let you know I just finished cleaning that up a few hours ago. Now, I'm _celebrating_." You smiled impishly, nodding your head towards the attractive man who you picked up an hour ago.

You gave Dean a knowing smirk. "You wanna catch up? Drinks on me. And by that, I mean drinks on my _friend_ , over there. Trust me, he won't care if I drink this whole bar dry once I'm done with him."

Dean sucked in his breath, teeth grinding together. The last thing he was expecting was to run into _you_. The hunter had been a wreck when he went to your motel the morning you left him and realized you were gone. For _good_.

You didn't even say goodbye, all you'd done was leave a yellow post it note outside of your door, as if that were to make anything better.

He balled his hand into a fist, anger welling through him from just _remembering_ that morning. He'd been hurt when he realized that you left, _incredibly_ hurt, especially since you never gave him any warnings that you wanted out. That you wanted to be away from him. It was like having the best part of his day ripped away without any explanation at all.

Sam was able to tell his brother was hurting. And oh, Dean was _hurting_ , but the oldest Winchester had always been good with hiding his hurt. He figured he deserved it somehow. He knew for a fact that he did. He just prayed you were safe, wherever you were. Safe, and happy.

After Dean returned from Hell, the events that followed behind were enough to keep his mind occupied from any thoughts of you. You were shoved down deep, just like everything else that went wrong with his life that he had no control over.

Dean slept with women when he had the chance. Every time, he was left feeling empty. Unsatisfied. Guilty. There was always going to be something missing, something he's had before but won't be able to ever find again and--

 --he didn't realize his nails were digging into his palm as he listened to you speak. He nearly broke through skin, and Dean quickly relaxed his palms before they could begin bleeding.

 

You quirked an eyebrow at Dean, noticing how he's been staring at you speechless for a while now.

"So?" You asked after seven awkward seconds of silence. "Drinks?"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts, the tension releasing from his shoulders. His emerald hues darted between you and the man leaning against the pool table who you were currently.. _with_ , apparently.

Dean immediately shook his head.

While the thought of. _. catching up,_ hell, even just _looking_ at you was a hard opportunity to pass, he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach reuniting with you when it was clear someone else had your attention. It was hard not to be pissed at the thought of you and the pretty boy over there. Still, he couldn't blame you for moving on.

He was a fucking _curse_ , and you were smart for getting out when you did.

 "I.. I'll have to pass." Dean's tone was gruff, and you were surprised that he would turn down free drinks. But it _has_ been two years, and maybe you didn't know Dean Winchester as well as you'd once had.

He looked uncomfortable with the thought of 'catching up', and you were secretly relieved that he denied your request, because Dean was looking just as handsome right now as he was the night you'd left him at that motel. Handsome, and exhausted. You couldn't ignore the tired look in his eyes, and you were surprised by the wave of concern that washed over you when you realized he hasn't been getting much sleep.

"Are you sure?" You asked gently, placing a hand on his green army jacket. "What's the rush? I've already handled the nest, so you're out of a job. Lets play some pool."

Dean's gaze shifted to your hand as you touched his shoulder gently. He prayed you wouldn't be able to tell how quickly his heart sped at your touch. It was getting harder and harder for him to pretend he wasn't miserable.

Like seeing you here, looking _just as beautiful_ and lively as he'd seen you last, wasn't making him loose his _fucking mind._

Dean swallowed thickly. He needed to hurry up and get out of here before he said something he regrets. Something stupid, like, ask you why you ran out on him.

Instead, Dean asked the next question that was burning a hole in his mind.

"Did you take out that vamp nest yourself, or.. have you found yourself some new partners?"

There was no denying the venom in his voice at that last part, and his gaze flicked back over to the attractive looking man you'd been playing pool with.

You followed his gaze before letting out a startled laugh. "Oh, no, no. I just met him. Good company though, _amirite_?" You gave him a cheeky grin, and Dean was clenching his fist once again, gritting his teeth together as he tried to over come the nauseating wave of jealous that crashed through him.

The hunter cleared his throat, trying to remain natural.

"You did a good job, then. Especially on your own, you managed to beat me and Sammy to it, at least." He paused, eyes darting over your smaller frame before chewing on the bottom of his pink lip. "You've been.. keeping yourself safe, right?"

Have you really been hunting alone these past two years? Dean wasn't sure how he was supposed to leave this bar without you in tow now that that knowledge in his mind. He and his brother were the reason you got into hunting, they saved you and brought you along when you showed potential. The fact that you left and continued hunting on your own..? It was beginning to get hard not taking this personal.

You gave him a small smirk, "You betcha! It's not like I go _looking_ for trouble, Dean."

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if suggesting otherwise, and you smiled sheepishly. "..Okay, not _usually_. But a vamp nest is pretty hard to turn a blind eye to. I knew how to take them down, and I wasn't afraid to do it. Any one else would of done it if they were in my position. The point is, I got the job done, hence the celebration!"

You spread your arms wide cheerfully, gesturing towards the bolstering bar. Dean noticed the drunken tint in your cheeks, and he took a moment to really look you up and down, wanting to save this beautiful image into his memory for the rest of his life.

You.. Dean still found you absolutely stunning. He noticed how your [ **hair color** ] locks have grown out since the last time he saw you. You looked healthy, happy, and he was trying hard to ignore the fact that you needed to leave him in order to find your happiness. Taking away his own, with you.

It was suddenly becoming harder and harder for Dean to pretend seeing you hadn't rattled him to his core. 

"You're looking good, [ **your name** ]." Dean told you in a soft tone, a tone you'd once been quite familiar with. "I'm glad.. well, it's always nice to see old friends."

Your eyes widened at that, and you snapped you gaze up to meet his green hues.

Dean was looking anywhere but your eyes.

"..I've got to go," He muttered quickly, before brushing past you and heading towards the door. You choked on his name, before closing your mouth. You were frozen in your spot; were you supposed to go after him? Comfort him? Ask him to stay around?

You've honestly let go of all feelings for Dean, both good and bad.

Now, he was just another hunter. Someone you knew you could count on when it came to the supernatural, but outside of that? There was nothing left between you two.

You stayed at the bar for maybe a half hour longer after Dean's surprise appearance. You were still in a good mood, but there was no denying that seeing your former flame threw you off guard. Your mind kept straying to Dean; why did he look at you like that? Was he not happy to see you? You couldn't understand why he _wouldn_ 't be-- it's not like _you_ cheated on _him_ or anything.

You had to remind yourself that you didn't do anything wrong. Not tonight, and not two years ago. Back then you were only doing what was right for you, and you were doing the same thing now.

It was tempting to run into Dean's arms and embrace him when you saw him. To tell him you were glad he was still alive, that you're sorry for leaving him with nothing but a stupid post it note that said 'see ya when I see ya'.

But you didn't. It would be too easy to get sucked into the Winchester orbit again. Too easy to get sucked into Dean.

You couldn't go back to being _everything he's ever wanted,_ but **still not quite enough.**

Your relationship with Dean-- after believing that the two of you had something special, and catching him with countless other women? You view on relationships changed.

Dean had been everything you wanted. Strong, brave, protective,  _strong_. You knew you would never find that in another man. You didn't _want_ to find that in another man. You never wanted to love someone as much as you had loved Dean Winchester, you'd never give someone the opportunity to hurt you like that ever again.

And so you took what you needed from men, and then you left. That would of been the case tonight before Dean came marching back into your life. And of course, seeing him in person was just a reminder that you didn't need, on how no man in this dump bar will ever be able to compare. So, thirty minutes later, you bid goodbye to the friends you made at the bar, and you were leaving out the exit alone.

 You pulled your phone out to check the time. 12:30A.M, probably late enough to grab some snacks at take a well needed nap, if your body would crash from the adrenaline of beheading four vamps by yourself. You glanced back up and froze when you saw Dean leaning against his stupid Chevy Impala, his arms crossed against his chest. His eyes glued on you.

You open your mouth to speak, but have no words, and so you pressed your lips back together and frowned. You've been fearing this confrontation for two years now. 

*

Dean exited the bar with his hands balled into fists. He was _pissed_ , so pissed that he threw a punch at the stone wall of the pub once he stepped outside. Cursing himself and ignoring his now throbbing fist, Dean stomped his way back over to his Baby and got into the drivers seat, slamming the door shut.

He pulled out his phone and called his brother. Sam answered on the second ring, sounding confused on the other line.

"Dean? We just got off the phone-- did you find the location of the nest already?" The younger Winchester questioned.

"No." Dean answered roughly, sitting in the dark in his car as he glared daggers at the bar you were in. "There is no nest, Sammy. [ ** _your name_** ] took care of it." Dean spoke your name bitterly, and Sam went quiet on the other line. Dean let out a sour laugh at Sam's shocked silence, nodding his head knowingly. "Yeah. I know right?"

"...[ **your name** ] is there?" Sam asked gently. He wanted to ask his older brother how he felt after seeing you. Sam wasn't blind to his brothers broken heart. But it seemed Dean was able to get over it-- one can only care about something so much after spending so many years in Hell.

Still, that didn't stop Sam from wanting to ask how Dean felt about running into you. But Sam knew his brother well enough to know he would only get upset if he showed any concern.

Sam was still confused, "--Wait a minute. Let me get this straight, [ **your name** ] is still _hunting_? I thought that's why she disappeared, she wanted out?"

"That's what I thought too, Sammy." Dean's voice was rough, dripping with bitterness. "Guess we were both wrong."

"That makes no sense, then. Why would [ **your name** ] just up and leave without saying anything to us? There's something we're missing." Sam didn't notice he was thinking out loud, and he abruptly stopped speaking once he realized these were the same thoughts his brother has probably been beating him self up about for the past two years now. 

He quickly changed the subject, "Well? How did she look?"

"Great." Dean answered without thinking. He cringed, just glad he didn't say the first thing that popped into his head. _Even more beautiful then I remember._

"Uh, she looks great. Happy. Healthy. Her hairs gotten a little bit longer."

Sam smiled sadly into the phone as he listened to his older brother ramble on. Dean couldn't hide it from him, he was still in love with [ **your name** ]. It made Sam's heart feel just a little bit lighter: both he and his older brother have been through _so much_.

These past years were changing the brothers, and Sam wasn't able to tell if it was for good or worst yet. But one thing that seemed to remain the same was Dean's feelings for you. And Sam was willing to bet your feelings having changed much either.

There was a short, comfortable silence on the line while Dean gathered his thoughts. Sam broke the silence with a gentle voice.

"You know.. maybe you should go talk to her--" He began.

His older brother let out a loud scoff and jammed the keys into the engine. "Like hell," He snorted. Sam panicked when he heard Dean start the car in the background, knowing that his brother was running away.

"Wait-- Dean! Wait!" Sam said in an urgent tone. "Just give [ **your name** ] our number, alright? We've changed it so many times, I doubt she still has it. Plus, if she's hunting alone, it would be better if she could call us if anything comes up."

Dean sighed, hating that his brother was right. This wasn't just about his feelings for you anymore, it was about keeping you _safe_.

Only, it _was_ still about his feelings for you. It's _always_ been about his feelings for you. Dean knew his attraction to you wasn't normal. In fact, once he realized what was happening, it scared the living hell out of him.

Sure, at first when he and Sam saved you from some vengeful spirit, things were normal. You were just another pretty civilian woman they managed to save in the nic of time.

Only you _weren't_.

You told the boys you could help, that you **_wanted_** to help. You knew all sorts of mythology, legends, and historical texts that you'd figured to be just stories, but the fact that they weren't spurred you on. You could _help_. You knew your stuff. And so they let you tag along.

The first months were great, you listened to all of their rules, you never pulled any stupid stunts, and it was nice to have an extra pair of hands along that Dean knew could follow orders. And then you got tossed against the wall by an evil spirit, and Dean knew the minute he saw you limping back to the motel, he couldn't afford losing you. Never.

You'd only been around for six months, but he was used to waking up next to you or Sammy-- whichever one he was sharing the bed with that night. He was used to listening to your giggles as you watched re-runs of your favorite shows. Used to watching you throw your hair up and walk around the hotel in a pair of mitch-matching socks.

He didn't realize it until he was nursing your bruises that night, so overwhelmed by the thought of losing the little bit of sunshine he can count on for everyday weather that he placed an innocent kiss on your lips.

Dean was stunned by his reaction to seeing you hurt, it opened something in him that he wasn't ready to address yet. Something he couldn't address. But that didn't stop him from wanting you to stick around.

And that was probably his first mistake.

Dean let out an irritated huff as he pulled the keys out of his engine and hung up on Sam.

 _Shit_ , there was nothing he wanted more then to stomp back into that fucking pub and drag you out by your arm. To scream at you for answers. Or maybe just to 'catch up', like you'd suggested.

He sighed, stepping out of baby so he could get fresh air and pop his elbows on her hood, deep in his thoughts.

He couldn't go back in there, not while you were surrounded by men undressing you with their eyes. Dean wanted more then anything to show that pretty boy some of the tricks he learned in hell-- and that thought frightened him. He was damaged, _changed_ , different from the man that you knew two years ago. He didn't want to find out if you would like this new him. Even he didn't like the new him.

He wanted more than anything to flee the parking lot right now, just hop into his baby and speed off into the night without another thought of [ **your name** ] and the fact that she was so much more beautiful then he'd possibly imagined.

But Sammy was right. You'd be safer with their number, and he'd feel better once he gave it to you. But his feet were refusing to move, and with a huff, Dean leaned his back against Baby as he glared at the bar, willing himself to go back inside.

He was surprised when you came stumbling outside, fifteen minutes later. His jaw clenched, unable to control the waves emotion that seeing you was washing over him.

 

_It's been two years, [ **your name** ]. You've been running from this for two years. You don't need to be scared anymore. You can do this._

"You're still here?" You mused in an interested tone, ignoring the way Dean's green eyes didn't waver from your gaze, not once. "Are you waiting for something?"

"You." Dean answered in a clipped voice.

You swallowed shakily, quirking a confused eyebrow up at him. You finally made it in front of Dean so that he was only two feet away from you, and you glanced up at the night sky, suddenly remembering the last time you'd seen him. If you recalled correctly, the situation had been similar to this.

"Well, here I am. Did you want to get that drink?"

Dean clenched his teeth. "No." He said in the same clipped tone. You let out an exasperated sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.

"Okay, well? What do you want then, Dean?" You asked, annoyance dripping from your voice. If he was going to keep being _snippy_ with you, then you would just _leave_. No point in staying to talk if he doesn't want to talk.

Dean struggling to keep his composure. He was mad-- no, _pissed_ that you left him without a real note. _See 'ya when I see 'ya?_   What the hell was that supposed to mean? It was like you'd purposely tried to piss him off before you left him. But did it really even matter anymore, two years later?  Dean always knew he would never have a normal relationship-- but _you_ , you were everything he could possibly want, and he only knew you for less than a year.

He'd seen so much potential in you, in what you guys could have been..

"I want to know why." The hunter finally announced.

Your eyebrows rose in understanding. You could understand Dean's hurt and confusion, but.. well, you'd honestly expected him to get over it by now, like you did. Was that selfish of you to assume?

You lifted a brow at him, attempting to be humorous. "Seriously Dean--?"

"Yes. Seriously." Dean cut you off in a no-nonsense tone that you'd once been quite familiar with.

You swallowed nervously. Again, you _hate_ confrontation. But you felt a sudden burst of courage; you've been holding this in for two years, and it would be easier to tell him the truth now that you weren't in love with him anymore. You weren't sure if it would hurt any less, though.

"I want answers, [ **your name** ]. I've been waiting years for this moment, I can wait all night if you want." He folded his arms and narrowed two green hues at you, not lying in the least when he said he would wait all night.  "Why did you leave me, [ **your name** ]?"

Well.

It certainly didn't hurt any less. Especially with the way Dean was looking at you, betrayal in his eyes. You abruptly shifted your gaze, unable to look into those hurt filled eyes any longer. You crossed your arms against your chest in a defensive manner and took a step back, turning your side to him so you could avoid his gaze.

"I didn't.." You began to deny, but  Dean's hands were on your shoulders, forcing you to face him.

" _Yes_ , you _did_." He cut you off darkly before you could come up with some excuse. He couldn't control himself, he could see you tucking back into that shell just like before, when you'd left. He couldn't bear the thought of letting you walk away again without getting any answers. His grip didn't loosen, but Dean's face softened. "I just want to know _why_ , [ **your name]**. Why you gave up on.." _Me_ , Dean wanted to say.

"..us." He finished gently.

Aahh. _There_ was that familiar spark of anger. You took a step back and slapped Dean's hand off of your shoulder.

"Pfft!" You snorted, unable to hold back your laugh. "There was no **_us_** , Dean. There was _you_ , and there was _me_. There was _you_ , and there was the girl from the bar. _You_ , and the girl from the hunt. _You_ , and the waitress from the diner. But as for **_us_**? Don't make me laugh. You made it clear there was no _us_."

There. You let it out, and you didn't feel nearly as bad as you thought you would. In fact, you felt relieved for finally telling him the truth, and you glanced up to meet Dean's gaze in a determined manner as you asked boldly, "Can you _blame_ me for leaving?"

Dean's eyes widened, taking a step back as he had to lean against his Impala so he wouldn't stumble back from shock.

Two years of thinking that you'd left him because you thought he was _cursed_ , because you thought he was a _monster_ for the things he's done.. Dean felt relief because he'd been _wrong_.

You didn't leave because you thought he was a _lunatic_ \-- you left because he was a _dick_.

And that made all the sense in the world to Dean.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, a dry smile forming his lips once it dawned on him how much he must of hurt you. ' _Shit, I'm a fucking asshole.'_

Dean inwardly cursed himself, because the thought that you'd caught him messing around with those women had never once crossed his mind.

He was really a dick.

"No." Dean finally answered in a somewhat breathless voice. "I don't blame you-- at all. I'm-- I'm a fucking joke." He rubbed an anxious hand down his face, and you smiled at him, liking his response.

"Damn straight!" You agreed, smiling brightly.

The worst part was done, now you could go back to being friends. You felt somewhat foolish for waiting so long to resolve this issue between the two of you. Dean was leaning against the impala's door, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with a careful look that you didn't recognize. You'd once been able to read Dean Winchester so well.

"I'm sorry, [ **your name** ]." He said suddenly in a somber tone, which you _soooooo_ weren't ready for.

You let out a squeak because of his awkward apology, you _definitely_ didn't want to accept it, but you wanted to reassure him that things were fine between you two. "Don't worry about it Dean. I'm _waaaay_ over that chapter in my life--"

"No."  Dean cut you off again, shaking his head. He stepped away from the impala and towards you, causing you to gulp nervously as you looked up, up, _up_ into his green eyes.

Have you mentioned he was just as handsome as ever?

"I need to say this. I'm sorry, [ **your name** ], not only for hurting you but..." He took another step towards you, and Dean placed his hand on your shoulder gently, forcing you to face him. You tried to ignore the sudden increase of your heart beat.

The larger hunters emerald hues were shimmering with raw honesty, and you couldn't bring yourself to look away.

"..I'm sorry for making you believe I didn't love you. I did." He brought his hand up to your cheek, his rough thumb gently stroking your smooth skin. "..I still do." The pain in his voice was evident. "I never stopped."

You were hypnotized by the tremor in his voice. You were not.. _expecting_ this. You weren't expecting a _confession_. He _loved_ you? When did he figure that out? When he was locking lips with a random at some bar? Maybe when he was messing around with that chick in his Impala? 

You shook your head, snapping our of your trance and giving Dean a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry. I don't believe you."

Dean took a step back from you to give you space. He looked startled by your response, but a small knowing smile spread across his lips. 

"I guess I deserve that. Here. Sammy said it'd come in handy for you to have this."

He handed you a cellphone number, which you took gratefully. It'd be nice to have the brothers in your contact list once again, and although you knew you wouldn't be giving them a call, it was nice to know you had two of the strongest hunters for back up for worst case scenarios.

You tucked it into your pocket and gave Dean an honest smile.

He watched as you wordlessly pocketed his cellphone number, and graced him with that beautiful smile that he hasn't seen in years.

There was no way you could possibly understand how good it felt for Dean to see you. You didn't know about his years down in the pit, you didn't even know that the brothers had cheated death-- _were still_ cheating death.

There was no denying the relief he felt knowing that you left before you were able to get dragged into his bullshit.

Dean pulled you into a hug that had you tensing from the surprise contact, but he didn't care. He rested his chin on top of your head and simply savored the feeling of you in his arms. He wasn't sure he'd see you again after this-- if you _wanted_ to see him again.

Now that he knew why you left him, he couldn't blame you for never coming back.

"Me and Sam have a place now, you know. Plenty of rooms, plenty of space. You can stay if you want.." He trailed off in a hopeful manner.

"I can't." You told him simply, finally giving into his embrace and resting your chin on his shoulder. However, you didn't _dare_ hug him back.

"Alright," Dean said gently, not pushing you for answers. Instead, he gently ran his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner that gave you pleasant chills. "At _least_ let me give you a ride to where you're going."

You pulled away from Dean's embrace, shaking your head with a knowing smile on your face. "It was nice seeing you again, Winchester." You weren't sure if you were lying, or telling the truth. "It's good to see that you're still alive and kicking. The world is a better place with you in it, you know. You've helped a _lot_ of people."

Dean clenched his jaw shut, not explaining how he'd spent a year in Hell and for some reason was brought back by some angels who told him that same exact thing. Only, this time, Dean could believe it coming from your mouth.

He swallowed back the words he wanted to express to you; his apologies, his guilt, how nice it was to see you again.. even if you were over him. He wasn't over you. Not by a long shot.

The oldest Winchester watched as you gave him one last beautiful smile, and began to walk away. His throat tightened, before choking out to your retreating form.

"You-- you'll take care of yourself?" He asked in a protective voice.

You giggled quietly to yourself, amused that some things about Dean hasn't changed at all. "Of course!" You responded easily, lifting your hand to acknowledge him as you walked away.

Dean watched you leave for a few seconds longer, before calling out again. "You'll give me a call?"

This time, you turned your head to look over your shoulder at Dean, who was watching your retreating form from across the parking lot.

You gave him a soft, sad smile. "Of course."

You lied.

* * *

**six to seven months later**

**...**

* * *

 

Dean frowned as he received a text message from an unfamiliar number, clicking the green 'open' button.

_'Please help me. 3250 Williams Drive.'_

A strange text message with an address. Dean abruptly slammed the book that he was researching for the Mark of Cain shut. Sam's head snapped to his brother, startled by his sudden movements.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a questioning voice.

Dean glared at his cellphone. It could be a _trap_ , it was _likely_ to be a trap. But what if it wasn't? What if.. it was _somebody_.. who really needed him?

He was trying desperately hard not to get his hopes up. The first thing that came to mind was [ **your name** ], but he quickly brushed that thought away. It's been half a year since he last saw you, _two and a half years_ since you left him.

He felt pathetic, still thinking of you even after you promised to call, but never did. And now that Dean knew the reason why you left him, there was no way he could hold it against you.

You were always a smart girl, clearly smart enough to run away from the Winchester curse before anything could happen to you. Still, this didn't stop Dean from caring about you any less. _Nothing_ could change his feelings for you, and nothing would stop him from running head first into danger if it meant protecting you. He and Sammy were the ones who got you into the hunting business anyways-- it was the least he could do.

Dean ignored Sam's confused look and took the keys to Baby.

"Dean?" Sam asked again, realizing that his brother was leaving without warning.

"I'll be back," Dean murmured, eyes locked to his cell phone as he stomped out of the bunker. The mark on his arm was aching, and he was thirsty for blood.

* * *

. . .

You _really_ fucking did it this time. You would be cursing yourself, or pulling your hair in frustration if you could, but you currently had no control over your body.

Honestly, this was all your fault.

You'd been reckless, picking up some handsome stranger from the bar and going home with him. He seemed harmless, and he was definitely a looker. Jack was probably the most attractive man you've run into in a _while_ , but that was never a good enough excuse for clouded judgement.

You slept with him, stayed the night, and slept with him again in the morning instead of sneaking out before he woke up like you usually did. Jack was absolutely enthralled by you, he told you you were beautiful, your kisses shook him to his core, that you made him feel alive.

Those should have been warning signs, but you might of liked his praise a bit more then you cared to admit.

And then, in the morning when Jack was handing you a plate filled with all of your favorite breakfast foods, he quickly slipped a ruby ring onto your third finger.

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to tell him he was crazy, that this was just a _one night stand_ , but to your horror, the words that came out of your mouth was, "Thank you, Jack."

He was _controlling_ you. The ring was _controlling_ you.

_You were a prisoner in your own body._

"Let me repay you for this beautiful gift," The words were coming out of your mouth in a sultry voice, a voice that didn't match the disgust you felt in your mind. You felt your body fall to it's hands and knees as you tugged on his belt with movements that were not your own.

It was torture. It was a special kind of torture, screaming at yourself in your mind to stop, watching as you touched his body gently with all of the care in the world. You thought you were going to be sick, but your body wouldn't listen.

You spent the whole day being forced to play _house_ with this witch-- wizard? Whatever he was, the ring that he gave you binded you somehow. You noticed he didn't have that magical control over your thoughts. Still, you couldn't control the words that came out of your mouth (and trust me, his johnson was not as big as you so graciously told him it was).

When night came, and Jack was spent from having his way with you, he turned his back to you in the bed, and you quickly pulled your cellphone out from your bag before he could notice. Your body moved slow and felt heavy, like you were stuck in resin, but after struggling for several minutes to shoot a relatively short text message, you quickly deleted it from your inbox and collapsed on the bed.

You weren't even sure Dean still had the same number. The chances of him showing up were low, _real low_ , especially since you never gave him that call that you promised.

You clenched your eyes shut. You wanted to cry but couldn't. You were having a mental break-down inside of your head. Jack grumbled sleepily about wanting you closer, and your body curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You were on your own.

You always have been.

There was no reason that would change now.

*

Dean frowned as he sped down the highway, grateful that there were no cars out this late at night since he was going double the speed limit. The address you gave him, he was assuming it was you, was only three hours away.

He'll make it in one and a half.

Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation. You haven't reached out to him in _years_ , and the fact that the first time you do, you're asking for help? It doesn't ease his concerns in the slightest bit.

He only hoped that it was you who sent the text message, because if it was some demon trying to fuck with him--.. well, the Mark of Cain has been making his skin crawl since the moment he got it, just begging to be tested out.

Dean rolled down Baby's passenger window so he could get some fresh air. He was oddly calm about the fact that he could be driving right into a trap. Dean knew for sure, he would take down any of the sons of bitches who tried to fuck with him. Tried to fuck with what he cared most about.

*

Your eyes snapped open.

You could feel Jack's arm tossed around your waist, and your first instinct was to bend it back and dislocate it from his shoulder.

Then, you remembered that you didn't have full control over your body, so you couldn't tear him apart like you wanted to. Still, something must of woken you up. You swore you heard a noise in the living room, so you swung your legs over the bed after _lovingly_ removing Jack's arms from your waist.

Mentally, you were gritting your teeth and glaring daggers at the man. Sadly, you couldn't take care of him like you wanted to, not while this _ring_ was stuck on your finger. You slowly got out of the bed.

"Mmm, **[your name]** , where are you going?" Jack asked sleepily from underneath his blankets, head buried in pillows.

"I think I heard something," You answered honestly. Inwardly, you cursed yourself in your mind. You wanted to lie and tell him you were going to the bathroom or getting a glass of water, but you were incapable of lying. Thankfully,  Jack was too worn out from your earlier activities to ask what you were doing, and he fell back asleep.

You tip toed you way out of the room, slowly creeping into the living room.

The lights were off, and the hairs on your neck were prickling from anticipation. You always had good reflexes, and you were able to tell something was off.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, you were startled when you flicked the light on and saw Dean, knife in hand, and a sheepish expression on his face once he realized he's been caught by you.

"[ **your name** ]?" He whispered gently, eyeballing the pajamas you were wearing. Jack had a thing for itty bitty shorts and tank tops, but you couldn't explain that to Dean, not with the spell casted on you.

"Dean.." You responded in confusion. He quickly brought his finger to his lips and shushed you when he heard movement from the bedroom, and Dean quickly pushed you behind him to shield you from whatever the danger was.

Inwardly, you were screaming at him to get away from you. You weren't safe, you didn't have control over your body, but of course none of these words came out. Dean placed a large hand on your elbow to gently pull you behind him, and you closed your eyes in relief at his familiar touch.

"I've got you, sweetie." He was speaking to you in that gentle tone he reserved for frightened civilians, and the look on his face was pure concentration.

You _missed_ that look on his face. _God_ , you missed him so much. You wanted to tell him, to thank him, to apologize to him, but the words were locked in your head. Dean stopped to look down at you once he realized that you weren't responding, and he brushed a strand of [ **hair color** ] locks out of your face. "You alright?"

You pressed your lips together, not answering him. Suddenly, Jack walked into the kitchen, an interested look on his face. His eyes skimmed over Dean, who immediately tucked you behind his back once he noticed the strangers arrival.

Jack slipped his gaze towards you, a knowing smile spreading across his lips. "Do we have a problem here, [ **your name** ]?"

Dean snapped his gaze towards you, and the flash of hurt that crossed his face when you ducked out of his arms to go run behind the safety of Jack would have made you choke up if you had control over your body. But you didn't, so you were wrapping your arms around Jack's elbow, nestling your cheek against him.

"No, my love. This is Dean Winchester, he's an old friend of mine."

"Alright.." Dean's voice was gruff as he glared at Jack with so much hatred, you were surprised Jack didn't start shaking in his spot. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Jack ignored Dean's question, instead opting to run his fingers up your exposed arm in a loving manner as he gently placed his chin on top of your head. "A friend of yours? Are you sure it isn't more than that?"

"I used to be in love with him.. but I realized he was incapable of loving anyone. Anyone but himself, and his brother." You blinked your eyes up innocently at Jack, and he threw his head back and began to laugh.

Dean's grip clutched tighter on his blade. It was clear that you were possessed by something, this wasn't _you_ speaking, but deep down he knew that it really _was_. It hurt hearing you so calmly explain how you've fallen out of love with him, how you didn't believe he could ever love you back. He narrowed his eyes at Jack, who seemed to be enjoying the situation _far too much_ for the oldest Winchester's liking.

"Let her go." Dean's voice was dark and threatening, his face steeled as he took a step towards the man holding you captive. Jack tightened his grip on your arms, slowly pushing you so that you were shielding him from Dean. The hunter scowled, knuckles turning white from his death grip on the blade. "Coward." He hissed to Jack as he used you as a human shield.

"How did he find you, doll?" Jack murmured to you sweetly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You clenched your eyes shut, trying to fight the magic control he had over you, but it was futile.

"I told him to come." You said gently with your eyes closed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Dean watched as you buried your head into Jack's chest in shame. Jack clicked his tongue disapprovingly at you, shaking his head in disappointment. "That's very upsetting to hear, my sweet. Well, you brought him here. You take care of him."

Slowly, your hands reached out to grab the butcher knife that was sitting on the counter. Dean watched as you shakily picked up the blade, his eyes narrowing as you eyed the glistening weapon in wonder. His heart, which had been beating like crazy, slowly began to beat back at a normal pace as he closed his eyes, calming himself.

When Dean opened them, there were tears in your eyes.

"Of course, my love." You told Jack sweetly, taking a step towards Dean. His gaze was hard as he gave Jack a murderous glare, before softening his face as he approached you slowly.

"[ **your name** ], everything's going to be alright." He reassured you gently.

Inwardly, you were throwing a fit as Jack controlled your body, making you advance towards Dean with the blade in your hand. You were screaming at him to run-- please, _please_ don't be stupid and get yourself hurt because of me. _Please_ , Dean, I need you to help me. I don't want this. I don't want to do this.

You didn't notice the teardrop that slid down your right cheek.

Dean watched as your tear dripped to the floor, and his expression hardened once again.

Suddenly, Dean charged at you and he twisted your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade on the kitchen floor, clattering to the ground loudly. You gasped, taking a step back to regain your balance and clutch at your throbbing wrist. The hunter shoved you to the side, before pouncing at Jack, his blade in his hand as he slammed Jack against the wall.

"Why don't _you_ take care of me, huh?" Dean taunted the smaller man darkly, the sharp edge of his blade digging into Jack's throat. "You've got all the power, right? What, you have to control an innocent girl to do your dirty work?"

Jack was gasping for air, some words of denial tumbling out his mouth, and Dean shoved the blade harder against his throat, blood now dripping down the mans neck.

"I don't want to hear it!" Dean bellowed angrily in his face, spit landing on Jack's cheek. He winced, and Dean delivered a swift punch to his jaw. "What the _fuck_ did you do to her, huh? Tell me, and I'll kill you _quickly_."

"Why should I--" Jack began, but he was cut off when Dean delivered another punch to the opposite side of his jaw. Jack gurgled, and Dean punched him again, and then again, alternating between cheeks.

You were frozen in the kitchen, back pressed against the refrigerator in fear. In your mind, you were cheering, but you were confused because you've never seen Dean like this. He was like a rabid animal, and it was frightening, but he was here to save you, and you've never felt more relieved in your entire life. Except, maybe, the first time the Winchester's saved you.

"Tell me!" Dean snarled in Jack's face, and the man shook his head in defeat. "Alright-- alright! It's the-- the ring! The ring-- take it off and--"

Dean sliced off the magician's head.

 

You gasped, feeling the spell wash away from your body now that the magician was dead, and you quickly slid the ring off, throwing it on the ground. Dean froze when he heard the sound of the jewelry clattering against the floor, and he slowly turned around.

You were rubbing your aching wrist as you examined Dean closely. He was breathing hard, face splattered with blood. There was no denying the fact that you were scared shitless; has Dean _always_ been this aggressive? You knew that Dean was strong, that he would do whatever to get the job done. But, he just decapitated a _human being_ , Jack wasn't a vampire or some kind of monster. He was human.

"..Dean?" You said his name gently, eyes swelling with tears.

Dean slowly turned around to face you. The blade was still clenched in his fist, he couldn't force himself to let it go, his blood was still ringing from the violent decapitation. It wanted more, the mark wanted _more blood_. There were tears in your eyes, and Dean felt a wave of nausea as he realized he just murdered this man viciously in front of you. You were probably so scared of him, there would be no coming back from this--

"Dean.. you," You began, voice choking up. "You _came_."

Suddenly, Dean found the strength to release the blade from his tight grip, and it fell to the ground with a loud clatter as he took two long strides towards you and engulfed you in his embrace. Your small hands were clutching fistfuls of his dark khaki jacket, your body was shivering against him, and Dean could only hope that he didn't frighten you too badly. His hands ran up and down your back gently, almost frightened to touch you.

"Of course I did," He repeated gently, reassuring you with soft words. "You asked me to, **[your name]**."

A shudder racked through your body, before you were tearing away from his embrace and placing your hands on your knees, suddenly throwing up all over Jack's expensive carpet. You gagged some more as you recalled how you were forced to make love with him for _days_ , and Dean gently pulled your hair from your face as you threw up again from the memories.

"It's alright, [ **your name** ]. You're safe now. Go ahead and let it out."

You straightened back up once you were finished, wiping the back of your hand against your mouth in disgust. You looked at Dean through teary eyes, he looked just as upset as you were feeling. Shaking your head, you tugged on his arm and gestured towards the door.

"Please," You asked him wordlessly. You didn't want to stay inside of this house for a minute longer. Dean wrapped his arm around your bare shoulders as he led you out the house, keeping you warm from the cold early morning air, and he slowly led you to the Impala.

_He came. He came. He came._

_I'm not alone._

_Dean cares about me._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, the smut that I have planned for this story is RIDICULOUS. (can you believe that the storyline for this fic was created because I wanted to write some needy!Dean Winchester smut? actually, if you know me as an author, you can probably believe this..) Anyways, the majority of the next chapter is typed out. I was planning on releasing this as one long one-shot, but I feel like if I post one chapter that's like 20,000 words long, nobody will finish the story all the way through.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 kudos!! 10 bookmarks!! 8 Subscriptions!! Thank you guys for such quick responses. Your support had me writing this chapter out like it was freaking homework!! I was in my notebook all week. -3-;; Time for me to take a break. Enjoy!
> 
> September 15th Update: Wow, I got so much more responses on this then I anticipated!! Anyways, like I promised, here is a more updated version of chapter with less spelling errors. I'm planning on updating this chapter one last time, but I'm so tired of rereading this story e3e;;

 *

Dean drove in silence.

The sky was still dark, the sun would be rising in the next thirty minutes, and you kept your gaze out the window as your old friend drove down the road. You were not sure where he was taking you, probably wherever it was that he was staying at, and you were alright with that for now.

You needed some time to think. To come to terms with the fact that you were no longer under a spell, that you were _safe_.

You were only safe because Dean came and saved you. You shot him that text message out of desperation, you really had not expected him to come down and rescue you- and so _quickly_ , at that.

You were feeling guilty because you knew Dean heard what you said about him not being capable of loving someone. That wasn't fair to him, you honestly didn't mean it. Dean was a good man, he's saved a ton of innocent lives, yours included, and he didn't deserve the way you'd been ignoring him all this time.

He was still a friend, a close friend, your savior. You needed to let him know how grateful you were of him.

"I'm sorry." You apologized in a quiet voice, breaking the comfortable silence the two of you shared since getting into the impala.

Dean tilted his head towards you, fixing you with a concerned glance, before turning his attention back to the road.

"Don't do that." He spoke in a gruff voice that left no room for any arguments.

You wrung your hands together in your lap, uncomfortable by his sharp tone. It wouldn't be surprising if Dean hated you, now. You deserved it. You left without telling him why, without giving him a chance to explain himself.

You promised to stay in touch when he admitted to still being in love with you, but you lied.

Sighing in defeat, you gently placed your head against the window, not in the mood for another confrontation anyways.  You slowly slipped into a comfortable sleep.

*

Dean let out a long, _long_ sigh as he finally pulled his impala into the bunker's garage, pulling the keys out of Baby as he sat in the dark for a few moments. He shifted his attention towards you.

You were sleeping against the passenger door looking pained, hands and knees curling to your chest and a protective manner.

He didn't even want to _think_ about what you'd gone through.

No, _really_. Thinking about it made his skin crawl. Made the mark on his arm, that he's been doing _so well_ at ignoring,  _ache_. His thirst for blood, for violence, was only getting worst. He wasn't sure how you would react once you found out he _really was_ cursed.

"Alright," Dean encouraged himself as he let out another sigh, opening the car door and walking around towards the passenger seat, opening your door slowly so he wouldn't wake you up. "Up and at 'em."

He slid his arms underneath you, gently lifting you out of the car, watching as you snuggled into his chest in a sleepy daze.

Dean's eyes were glued to your face as he shut the Impala's door with his leg, turning towards the door as he carried you into the bunker.

You were _beautiful_. Beautiful, and _safe_.

He released a shaky breath, gently pressing his forehead against yours as he inhaled your familiar scent.

 _'Sh_ e's  _back. Back with me. Back where she belongs.'_

"Dean?" Sam's voice called out from the kitchen, and Dean walked into the bunker with a scowl on his face, immediately shushing Sam when he walked out to greet his brother.

Sam's eyes widened when he saw a woman in his brothers arms. He recognized your **[hair color]** hair immediately, and he was rushing over to his older brother to make sure you weren't injured. " **[your name]**?! Is she-- is she alright?"

Dean hushed Sam once again with an exasperated look on his face, eerily similar to the 'bitch face' that Sam so often shot Dean with. The younger Winchester resisted the urge to laugh at his brothers protectiveness over [ **your name** ], and both of the brothers froze when you shifted in Dean's arm, trying to get comfortable.

"Dean.." You murmured in your sleep drowsily, and Sam's eyes shot to his brother, a surprised look on his face. Dean smirked suggestively, waggling his eyebrows at his younger brother, before tightening his hold around you, carrying you down the hall so he could set you in the empty room next to his.

He and Sammy needed to have a talk. Dean was unsure if he wanted to tell his brother how the Mark of Cain was making him react-- there was no point in worrying Sam over something that neither of them can fix. Not at the moment, at least.

*

You woke up in an unfamiliar room. You didn't panic, the last thing you remembered was Dean, which meant you were safe.

You were always safe if Dean was around.

He wouldn't bring you to a dangerous place, so you relaxed back in the comfortable bed that you'd been resting in. You tried to lull yourself back to sleep, but you felt angsty. 

The last thing you wanted to do was lay in your bed motionless when you finally had control over your body again. You were feeling restless, and the room seemed as though the walls were slowly closing in on your.

You quickly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath when your feet touched the cold stone floors.

Where were you, anyways? You remembered Dean telling you that he and Sam had a place now, but what the hell? The walls and ground were made of stone, and you quietly wondered to yourself if the boys were working in a freaking _panic room_. 

Well, you were in no position to judge. Padding barefooted over to your door, which was cracked open, you opened it wider and peeked your head out. 

A long, empty hallway. Well, that wasn't creepy at all. 

You slowly stepped out of your room, unsure of which way you were supposed to go. This place was freaking huge-- how many people were staying here? Where the hell did Sam and Dean find this place?

Peeking at the door next to your room, you noted how it was cracked open as well. You gently pushed it open, curious. You were greeted by the sight of Dean sitting with his legs crossed on his bed, a leather black book in his lap as he appeared to be studying something with a determined look on his face.

His head snapped up when he heard the door crack open, and you had to suck in a sharp breath of air when his gaze met yours.

Dean was wearing a tight black T-Shirt, deprived of his usual layers, and a pair of dark blue jeans, his feet bare. You felt bad for interrupting whatever it was he was doing, especially since he looked so good doing it. He seemed startled by your appearance, abruptly shutting the leather bound book he was flipping through and setting it next to him on top of his bed.

"[ **your name** ]..." Dean began, quickly standing up from his bed so he could approach you. You snickered at his reaction, lifting your hands so you could reassure him there was no reason to fuss.

"Sit down, I'm fine. I'm not gonna topple over or something, you know."

Dean frowned at your teasing, before reluctantly taking a seat at the edge of his bed. "It's late. You should be resting."

"Trust me when I say, I don't need anymore rest." You smiled sheepishly, and Dean felt his tension slowly relaxing.

He was surprised to see you walking around already. You'd been incredibly shaken up when he found you, and Dean had planned on keeping you on bed rest for at leas the next day, just to make sure there were no side affects to your possession.

He returned to his room after eating dinner with Sam. Dean filled his brother in on the details that he knew; Some witch managed to pull one over on you, though he wasn't sure how long you'd been held hostage. Sam asked what the plan was for you next, and his older brother went silent.

Of course Dean wanted you to stay at the bunker. To stay with him, where it was safe, where he could watch over you. But he wasn't sure what you wanted, and Dean knew better then to get his hopes up again when it came to you.

Dean wasn't sure where he stood with you.

You were clearly not in love with him anymore. You admitted it to Jack that you didn't think Dean cared about you, which was absolutely ridiculous to him.

However you felt towards him, it was his fault for not making his feelings for you clear when he had the chance.

And Dean could beat himself up for the rest of his life for missing his opportunity.

He couldn't handle Sam's questions about you over the dinner table, so Dean abruptly wrapped up the burger he was eating and left the table when Sam asked for the third time what you've been doing all this time for the past two and a half years.

He didn't want to deal with his younger brother trying to butt into his business.

Not when Dean has been asking himself the same questions since the day you left. So he ditched Sam to go mope alone in his room, searching through everything they could have that had information on his Mark of Cain.

Dean didn't realize how long he'd stayed cooped up in his room until he checked the digital clock next to his bed that read 1:30A.M.

He was used to pulling all nighters; he rarely got a good night of rest since he received the mark. It had him on edge, and the sound of his door creaking opened startled Dean more then he cared to admit.

He was surprised when he saw you staring at him with an innocent expression on your face. Dean's heart began pounding in his chest as he quickly hopped out of his bed to greet you, wondering if there was something wrong. You quickly reassured him, and Dean slowly slunk back into his bed, trying to calm himself.

You said you were feeling restless. He could understand the feeling.

"Alright.." Dean said slowly, relaxing onto his bed as he examined you closely. "How are you feeling?"

You shifted on your feet, uncomfortable with his searching gaze.

"I feel.." You began slowly, pondering his question.

You could tell him the truth. That you woke up fearing you wouldn't have control over your body. That you were afraid this was just a dream, that you would wake up any minute now with Jack on top of you, taking advantage of your 'willing' body.

"Dirty." You finished in an absent voice. You didn't want to talk about it. You _couldn't_ , not without feeling nauseous.

Dean's lips tucked into a frown at your answer. He was staring at you with brilliant green eyes that could probably see _right through_ you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You were suddenly reminded of the revealing pajama's you were wearing, the pajama's that Jack had so graciously gifted you with.

"Dean, do you have anything else I can wear?" You quickly changed the subject before he could comment on your confession.

"Please?" You begged weakly.

He was on his feet immediately and headed towards his drawers. Dean began shifting through his clothes quickly, not liking the thought of you feeling uncomfortable. His back was to you, and you couldn't help but enjoy the view of Dean's wide, broad shoulders as he tried to find a shirt for you to wear.

"You're not dirty, [ **your name** ]. You're one of the most purest people I've ever met." He lifted up a white top, examined it, and then set it down to search for something larger.

"I've seen a lot of evil in this world. A lot of dirty, shady people. 'Yer not one of them, [ **your name** ]. Not one bit."

He turned around and handed you a black top. You took it from him with grateful fingers, and Dean was giving you a stern look.

"That evil son of a bitch got what was coming to him. Fucking prick didn't deserve such a quick, clean death. Assholes like him who need to _force_ women--"

"He didn't force me, Dean." You told him gently, eyes glued to the floor. You were disgusted with yourself.

"I went home with him willingly. He-- I--, I should of left him in the morning before he woke up. I shouldn't of stayed. I should of realized something was up from the way he obsessed over me-- it wasn't natural. But no one's ever spoken to me the way that he did-- I guess I felt.. I don't know. Special? He was so.."

Jack had been charming, handsome, and terribly polite when you met him at the bar. You shared drinks, had the same taste in literature, and you'd just hit it off great. Now, you just felt humiliated for falling so easily for his trap.

You felt disgusting. Dirty.

"..no, I can't talk about it. I'm making myself sick."

"Hey," Dean snapped at you in a sharp tone, placing a large but gentle hand on your bare shoulder. His touch heated you up immediately, feeling so much nicer than Jack's cold hands. You gaze snapped from the ground to Dean in shock. He was looking at you with determination in your eye, making sure you were listening to his every word.

"You listen to me right now, [ **your name** ]. You did **_nothing_** wrong. You should be allowed to go home with some lucky bastard without worrying about him casting some spell on you and keeping you against your will."

He didn't want to think about you and that bastard, about how you'd willingly gone home with him. But Dean was telling you the truth; it wasn't you fault whatsoever, but the thought of you and some jackass being able to enjoy your company and taking advantage of that? Dean wanted to rise the son of a bitch from the dead and kill him once again.

"You did the right thing contacting me, sweetheart." Dean told you gently, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. "I'm glad you kept my number."

Dean's normally hard expression was soft as he looked down at you with honest eyes.

You could feel tears swelling into your eyes. Why did you leave this man again? Sure, you caught him with a few random, nameless women. But you saw the way Dean had looked at them-- like he _wanted_ them, yes. But only for that night, and he was always ready to hit the road in the morning.

The way he looked at you three years ago when he'd confessed you were everything he wanted; the way he looked at you six months ago when he told you he never meant to hurt you; the way he  looked at you now as he tried to comfort you..

"I didn't think you would come, Dean." You admitted to him, voice cracking. "I thought I was alone. I thought I'd always be alone. _I_ walked away from _you_ , I gave up before we even started. You have every right to be upset with me, but here you are.. inviting me to your home, letting me wear your clothes. I don't deserve this kindness."

Dean didn't know what to do as he watched you nearly breaking down in front of him.

You looked so small standing there as you blamed yourself for the mistakes that _he_ made. Dean never blamed you once after he figured out why you left him without a word. He was _scum_ , leading you on but never making it official.

Going to bars while you slept in the motel, using women before moving on to the next town. He could never bring himself to touch you, not like that. Not that he didn't want to. He couldn't, not when he knew that you could ruin him completely.

He'd been a coward back then.

He knew better now.

"You'll _never_ be alone, [ **your name** ]. Not while I'm around. Not unless you want to be." Dean sounded breathless as he rubbed your forearms comfortingly. He knew he was putting his heart on the line once again. The last time he did that, you walked away from him.

"Nothing's changed, [ **your name** ]. Not on my side."

Your heart was racing. Dean always had a way with his words. A way that made you forget your common sense, and want to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

It would be all too easy to forget the fact that Dean had already hurt you once.

You trusted Dean Winchester with your life.

You weren't sure you would ever be able to trust him with your heart.

You diverted your gaze from Dean's intense stare. You were not strong enough to put your heart on the line.

Not for him, not again.

Dean could see you tucking back away into that shell of yours. He shut his eyes and released a defeated sigh. It was clear his feelings weren't getting through to you, and he slowly let go of your shoulder.

You could literally _feel_ Dean's disappointment, and you were frustrated with yourself.

Seven months ago, when Dean Winchester confessed his feelings for you, you told him you didn't believe him.

And now here the two of you were, in the same situation once again.

You were unsure of what Dean's intentions were, but you were becoming rapidly aware of the fact that you had complete control over him. Just like Jack had control over you, but this was _for rea_ l. And you weren't sure what that meant.

Dean would never settle down and buy a home-- a _real home_ with you. He would never stop _hunting_ , stop putting his life at risk, stop chasing after the supernatural. Dean didn't love _you_ , he loved his _job!_  The family business.

So, you weren't quite sure if you _believed_ Dean when he told you he was in love with you.

But you'd be _damned_ if you didn't take what you could get.

You quickly caught Dean's hand on your shoulder before he could pull it away. The hunter raised his eyebrows as he looked down at you with a confused look in his eye. Your [ **eye color** ] hues were unreadable as you glanced up at him with a calmed look on your face.

"I need to shower. Wanna give me the grand tour?"

He looked surprised by your sudden request, but was nodding his head, understanding immediately. Dean clapped his hands together, shaking off the awkwardness and shooting you a boyish grin.

"Alright, [ **your name** ]. Now that you've gotten a look around my favorite room in the bunker," He gestured towards his room, and it was obvious for you to see that Dean enjoyed having his own room _very_ much.

"I think it's about time I showed you my second favorite place to be: the _showers_!"

Dean led you down the hall, still grinning from ear to ear as he explained how nice it was to have an actual shower with real water pressure to look forward to after a long, long hunt.

He told you some stories, like how he met some dweebs who pretended to hunt ghosts with an alarmingly popular website. He explained how the bunker was originally the Men of Letters headquarters, and how they hit the motherload of files with all kinds of information on ghosts, monsters, gods, and demons.

You smiled as you listened to him fill the silence with ease; you could listen to Dean just talk forever. His voice-- _ooh_ , his voice.

He spoke with confidence; strength and power behind his words. But there was something about Dean now. He gave off a certain aura of _raw domination_ , and while he seemed so confident in the field, when it came to you, it was clear Dean was hesitant.

As if he were afraid he would hurt you again, even though you've told him you were _way_ over that chapter a long time ago.

You believed Dean when he told you he was sorry, and you believed he would never knowingly hurt you again, so you couldn't understand his hesitance.

Dean led you to the large washroom before telling you to wait a moment and running off to the water generator control room. You waited until the lights flickered on in the wash room, and headed inside by yourself. You took in the many cubicle of showers and raised your eyebrows, letting out an appraising whistle.

Dean returned once he switched the hot water pipe on, and he froze in the door way to the washroom when he saw you examining the showers with interest. He had some towels in his hand, and he hung them on the hook outside of the nearest cubicle.

"Alright, [ **your name** ]. If you need anything, I'll be right across the hall in the kitchen, heating us up some leftovers." Dean checked over you to make sure you'd be alright, and then turned on his heel to head out the door.

"Dean." You called after him, stopping him in his tracks.

He froze, not expecting you to need something from him so soon. Dean peered over his shoulder and looked at you, his voice gruff with confusion.

"What is it?" He asked questioningly.

You tilted your head up to look Dean in his green eyes. "Come here."

Dean's eyebrow's jumped up, not sure what you were playing at. Still, he took the bait, and after a moment of hesitation, he approached you near the showers.

"What is it?" He repeated slowly, and he was closer now.

You gave him a small, sneaky smile and leaned your back against the stone shower cubicle. You crossed your arms against your chest and gave him an almost challenging smirk.

"Take off my shirt."

Dean felt his cock twitch to life instantly.

He almost released a squeak, but he held it back behind a deep swallow and an odd shuffling of his feet.

" _Wha_ \-- come again?" His voice sounded on the brink of embarrassment, though there was a hint of hopefulness in his tone. He prayed he didn't hear you wrong.

You almost laughed at his reaction, and Dean was within arms distance, so you reached forward and grabbed him, pulling him towards you and standing on your toes so you could kiss Dean on his pink, confused lips.

He sounded unsure before, but Dean's hands were steady when they landed on your hips, his palms firm on your waist as he pulled your body close.

And then, Dean was kissing you back, nearly stealing your breath away with his passion.

He had passion, and fire, and he _burned_ for you. He had _patience_ and _control_ as well, and you knew Dean would only touch you if you said he could.

It was a control that you _relished_.

Dean pulled away, his emerald eyes clouded as he looked down at you in a daze. His eyes darkened, and Dean's expression was hard as he rubbed firm soothing circles into your hips with his thumb.

"What are you doing, [ **your name** ]...?" Dean asked you once again in a breathless response.

You tilted your head to the side, shy under Dean's passionate gaze. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, but that didn't stop the fact that he was **_unbearably_** attractive, and he says he _never stopped loving you._ Any girl would be nervous if she were in your place.

You felt your face begin to flush at the memory of Dean's confession to you. "I need you to touch me, Dean. You don't make me feel dirty. You make me feel right."

Dean's expression slackened as he watched you look away from him from embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. He swallowed heavily once again, trailing his hand slowly from your waist to your arms as he listened to your request.

He was able to quickly put the pieces together; you _needed_ this, you _needed_ him to erase every other man's mark who ever touched you away.

Or maybe that was what _he_ needed-- Dean wasn't sure anymore. The Mark of Cain left him feeling a little hazy about what was wrong and right.

Like right now. Touching [ **your name** ] wasn't definitely not right, not when she was vulnerable like this. But he couldn't ignore the fact that you _needed_ him.

And he needed to help you get over this. He would control himself, he would get down on his knees and worship you if that was what you asked of him.

Dean's large fingers plucked the edges of your tank top, and you lifted your arms to help. He swiftly tugged it over your shoulders and tossed it outside of the cubicle, and you leaned back pressing your skin against the cold stone wall.

He was so close, you could feel Dean's cock twitching against your pelvis, and he sucked in a breath of air when he saw your bare breasts. His eyes dipped down to your chest, watching it rise and fall with life as you breath, before flicking his gaze back up to you.

"What do you want me to do now, baby girl?" He asked you in a sweet, encouraging tone, his voice rumbling against your chest.

"Take off your clothes." You ordered gently, and Dean was pulling on the collar of his shirt and swinging it over his shoulders, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding out of his pants within seconds.

You were smiling at how eager Dean was to do as you say, and he pressed his body back against yours, now naked. You could feel the head of his cock rubbing against your silk shorts and sticking against the skin of your belly, and you tugged on Dean's hands towards your shorts, silently asking him to take them off for you.

He looped his fingers through the elastic and pulled the shorts down. You weren't wearing underwear underneath, and Dean took a moment to take in your completely naked body. He released a shaky breath, leaning down and resting his head against your shoulder.

Dean's desperate groan sounded almost animalistic in your ear. "Mmmh, [ **your name** ], what are you doing to me?"

You were smiling as you brought your hand up to run your fingers through Dean's spiky locks.

"I want to _feel_ your love, Dean." You admitted in a gentle tone.

After two and a half years of believing you were not good enough for Dean Winchester; that he would prefer women he _didn't even know_ over you, thinking that you simply were not good enough to satisfy him-- he suddenly pops back into your life and expects you to believe stupid things like he's loved you all along??

You got over that chapter a _long_ time ago.

You _did_ , didn't you?

Dean released a shaky laugh, burying his head into your hair, contemplating your request.

 _Oh_ , he could show you his love, all right.

 _Two years_ worth of love, and self loathing. The fact that the Mark of Cain was twisting his desperate yearning for you into an unquenchable thirst was also not helping.

Dean inhaled your scent and slipped his hands down your thighs before trickling his fingers back up your sides, taking the opportunity to map the outline of your body with his needy hands while he's got the chance.

He would _control_ himself, control the _mark_ , because you _needed_ this. You needed him, and even though Dean had an itching feeling in his stomach that you were no longer in love with him-- he didn't deserve your love anyways.

It just felt damned good knowing that you were willing to at least count on him once again.

"I've wanted to do this since I first met you," Dean told you as he pulled away from your neck, cupping your head in his palm and stroking your temple in a loving gesture.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips gently against yours. "Let me take care of you, sunshine."

You smiled against Dean's lips, closing your eyes as he held your face and kissed you. You blindly reached backwards and pulled the lever, releasing cold water on the both of you.

Dean smirked and pulled you tighter against him when you squealed in surprise at the feeling of freezing water splashing over you two, the pipes taking a moment before heating up. Dean brushed your hair so it laid over your shoulder, and turned you around so your back was pressed against his chest.

The warm water sprayed against Dean's back, and you leaned your head against his wide shoulder.

He lathered a bar of soap in his hands, coating his hands and thoroughly cleaning your body with his palms and fingers.

You let out content sighs and relaxed in his arms, warm spray of water dripping down his body. His cock head was persistent against your back.

You smiled, tilting your head against his forearm as you listened to Dean confess to you how he's wanted to touch you since he first met you.

"Then why didn't you?" You asked in a relaxed tone.

Dean pressed his wet mouth against your neck, planting open mouthed kisses there, exploring the sensitive skin. His hands slowed their hurried exploration of your torso, his fingers dipping down your pelvis before slipping between your thighs.

His answer was honest, his voice filled with conviction. Remorse, but determination to make things right.

"Because I was a coward." His soapy fingers rubbed firm, steady circles just inches below your core on the inside of your thighs.

He could feel your wetness dripping form your cunt, and Dean washed the soap from between your thighs with water before gathering some more soap into his hands once again. Dean trailed his large hands up your torso as he continued.

"I was afraid of being happy. _Happy_ , like how Sammy was happy before I came buttin' in. You don't understand, [ **your name** ]. I'm _cursed_."

Dean's hands trailed up your body to your chest, fingers massaging between your breast as he lathered your chest with soap. You could only tilt your head back and pant for breath silently to yourself as you finally gave Dean the chance to explain himself to you.

He was being honest, brutally honest, and you thought Dean could only share this kind of honesty with his younger brother. The fact that you were wrong left you rendered speechless. Dean has always had a way with his words, and right now he was on a roll.

"Everything about me. About the Winchester's family business."

His fingers traced the curve of your breasts, fingers creeping towards your erect nipples. You sucked in a breath when Dean captured the sensitive buds between his thumb and forefinger. He gave your nipples a testing pinch, and you rubbed your thighs together, clenching in pleasure.

Dean's dick twitched against your back, pleased by your sensitive reaction.

"It's bad news, [ **your name** ]. I know where I'm headin' if I keep down this road, and it's a damned lot worst then hell, baby girl. ..And I've accepted that."

Dean slipped his left hand down your waist, gripping the flesh tightly as he pressed his thick, throbbing cock against the crease of your ass. His right hand rolled your nipple gently between his fingers as he poured his heart out to you.

You were dying from need as you listened to Dean's strong, _strong_ voice as he murmured his confessions into your ear.

"I don't want to hurt you. I tried to keep myself unattached."

"You should of thought of that before you made me fall in love with you, dumb-ass." You replied with just a bit of snark, before releasing a relaxed moan.

You smiled to yourself as Dean cupped your breast in one hand, feeling its weight in his palm and enjoying your pleasured sighs.

He tilted your head so you could face him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Back then, I was selfish. Only thinking of myself." Dean kissed your lips, his left hand between your thighs as he felt the water mixed with your lust for him. So wet, so hot, so pretty, and _all for him_.

His fingers traced the outside of your slick folds. The hunter was breathing heavily as he struggled to keep his mind clear. "Now it's all about you, **[your name]**."

You stuttered on a gasp when you felt Dean's thick finger slip between your folds. You could already feel how wet you were, but Dean's throaty groan of delight when he felt your soaking heat was enough to make you feel almost _shameful_ about the mess you've made between your legs.

You pushed Dean's hand away when he slipped his fingers between your lower lips, and he grunted when your wet heat soaked his fingertip.

He let out a needy sounding whine when you stepped away from his body, and Dean stuck his finger into his mouth, capturing your essense on his tongue before he could think otherwise.

Your taste was on his fingers, and Dean wanted to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder so he could _fucking_ _attack_ that wet little cunt of yours with his eager tongue. Fuck you with his mouth, taste the needy want of your desire that you made for him.

He gripped the base of his shaft as you stepped away, a bead of pre-cum white against his red head. Dean inhaled sharply through his nose when you turned around to face him with a sexy little smirk on your lips.

You stood on your toes so you could reach his mouth, and Dean immediately pressed forward so he could meet your lips halfway, desperate for another kiss from you.

You pressed against him, your chest to his as the hot water sprayed against Dean's back, your soapy body lathering his as well. Dean pulled away so you could breath, his lips pink and cutely swollen. He looked down at you with an intense, all consuming look in his eye.

"I wanna taste all of you, baby. Let me show you what I can do with my tongue-- I've been dreaming about watching you ride my face for longer than I should admit." Dean let out a shameless chuckle.

You smiled at his request, because you could listen to Dean Winchester beg for your body all night long if you had the time.

But at the moment, you felt like you would throw an angry fit if you didn't hurry up and fill the empty space you've been clenching at.

You wrapped your arms around Dean's neck, forcing him to lean down over your body as you climbed him and wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him roughly.

Dean's surprised hands flew to your hips, keeping you steady as you ground your soaking wet heat against his neglected cock, causing him to inhale deeply from the sharp pleasure.

"Shh--- _fuck_! [ **your name** ].. I wanna be inside you so bad. Bet you feel sooo good," He was groaning against your neck, cock throbbing on your pelvis as he panted in desperate want.

You leaned back to grasp the base of Dean's hard, thick rod and he hissed in pain, burying his face into your chest, needy pink lips attaching to the nearest irresistible nub he could find.

The oldest Winchester let out a choked grunt when you teased yourself with his shaft, rubbing his cock-head between your soaked lower lips.

Dean slammed his elbows into the walls, boxing you in his hold as he pressed your back against the concrete cubicle. The head of his cock got caught on the walls of your tight opening, and you both shivered in pleasure.

Dean was almost trembling from pleasure against you, and he rubbed his stubbled face up and down your neck.

"I need you to say it, [ **your name** ]." Dean told you, a trace of fleeting desperation in his voice. "Say you want me in, filling you up with every inch I got. I need to know."

He was asking for permission.

You adjusted yourself in his arms, tightening your legs around his waist and arched your back off of the wall when he captured a bud between his teeth. You gasped on his name, and Dean placed kisses across your chest to do the same with the opposite nipple.

Your grip stayed tight around the base of his cock, not pumping his shaft as you rubbed the dripping, rubbed head against your walls and enjoying how it got stuck in your tight heat before you flicked it out.

"I want this, Dean." You told him, aware that you weren't lying to him.

You always wanted Dean. It was _his_ feelings for _you_ that you doubted. But Dean kissed your doubts away, a genuine grin on his lips as you lined him up with your opening.

You released his member when when he pressed his head into your entrance, and you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck.

Dean was tense from the pleasure as he slowly entered your wet, exuberant heat inch by inch. You were soppy wet for him, and Dean felt his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. He had to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss while he slowly split you open, whimpering against your lips when you clenched around him gently, testing his reaction.

He licked at your lips, tongue desperately savoring your taste as he pulsed inside of you. You pawed at Dean's back as you felt him filling you up more then you've ever been before.

He finally bottomed out after several long seconds of pushing in. Dean groaned as you began kissing him back in a lazy, dazed manner.

He slowly pulled his cock out, tongue hungrily lapping inside your slacked mouth as Dean slowly began to fuck you raw. He could feel your slick lathering up his aching dick with your juices, he was so hard and you were tighter than he'd ever imagined.

Dean grunted, feeling the spray of water against his back as he slowly pounded into you at a leisurely pace, loving every pained gasp and wretched squeal of pleasure you let out when he rubbed against your walls.

He grasped your waist in an almost bruising grip when he felt the light fluttering of your orgasm approaching. He could feel you gradually giving in to his thrusts, pussy twitching as you slowly reached your peak.

Desperate to get you there, Dean began to pump his hips faster, snapping his thick member into you and making you gasp with each nailing thrust. Dean was moaning even louder than you were, appearing to clearly be enjoy himself with your body.

"Nnng... Fuck.. Yeah, that's good, [ **your name** ]."

He looked absolutely wrecked, eyes clenched shut, his hands clenches into fists next to your head as he fucked you so deeply you could feel his balls smack against your skin each time he crammed himself inside of you.

Opening his mouth when he felt you clench around him and try to milk him for everything he was worth, Dean released a long groan as your pussy forced him out of you, squeezing too tightly around him as you came.

He had to quickly wrap his wrist around the base of his cock, gripping strongly so he could refrain from cumming right along with you. " _Ohhh_ \-- ho.. ha, ah, [ **your name** ], you feel even better then I've imagined.. nnh, such _a tight fit_."

Dean buried his head into your neck as you arched in his arms, cumming quietly from just his cock alone. He hummed approvingly against your skin as you tried to catch your breath, his large hand rubbing your stomach gently while his other hand gripped his dick tightly.

"Sweetheart, I don't think I'm gonna be able to pull out at the last minute. ..Unless that's alright with you?"

He allowed himself one long stroke of his member at the thought of filling you up with his cum. Your head whipped back, confused by his question.

If it was _alright_ with you?

As if the results of him cumming inside of you would be yours alone to deal with? You quirked a challenging eyebrow at Dean.

"Would it be _alright_ with _you_?" You quipped, sarcastically.

You were surprised when Dean pumped himself again, a guttural growl escaping his lips.

"Hell yeah, it would be alright with me. Filling you up, over and over again until your round with my seed.."

You knew the two of you were talking about a _lot_ more than just quick, unprotected sex now.

"There's only one person I can see myself giving it all to, [ **your name** ]. One girl who I would settle down with for real. Make a family. You and me."

You weren't sure you believed Dean Winchester when he said he was in love with you.

But you knew you were still in love with him. And you couldn't risk giving it all to someone who would never really be able to _truly_ give it all to you.

"Lets go to your room," You told Dean gently, petting his face. You pulled away from him and turned off the shower. "Do you have any condoms?"

"Yeah baby, I do. C'mon, let's get you dried off." Dean toweled your hair dry and slipped his shirt on you before picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He slipped his jeans on, still wet and hard, and kissed you hungrily while he carried you back to his bedroom.

The two of you were kissing relentlessly, his tongue tangled with yours while his hands pawed at your ass. Dean pressed your back against the door, kissing you slow and steady, worshiping the silky velvet of your mouth.

He slammed his door open and carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him. You tore away from Dean's mouth when he began walking you towards his bed, and slid out of his hold. Dean gently placed you down on two feet, breathing heavily as he looked down at you.

"What do you want me to do now, [ **your name** ]?" He was desperate for your orders. You grinned and pushed your fingers against his chest.

"On the bed." You commanded slowly. "On your back. Pants off."

The two of you were still soaked from the shower, but Dean didn't hesitate in unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down, completely naked once again. He gave you a cheeky grinned when he caught you staring expectantly at his furiously red hard cock, as it bounced up and down while he walked towards the bed.

He sat down on the edge when the back of his knees hit the mattress, and you smirked at the sight of Dean Winchester sitting on his back waiting eagerly for you to make him cum.

"Where are your c--?" You began to ask for the condoms, but he cut you off in a pained, rushed voice.

"In my bag. Side zipper."

You were smirking now, and Dean groaned again at the sight of your curved lips. He fell to his back, defeated, bouncing up and down on the bed a bit as he closed his eyes, throbbing member standing straight up.

You grabbed the rubber between your fingers and paused to take in the sight of the horny, depraved Winchester.

It turned you on to think that you rendered this man to be a puddle of wanton need for you, and you slowly crawled on top of him with that thought in mind. Dean's hands were on your ass instantly holding you steady as you made yourself comfortable on his thighs.

He rubbed his thumb in circles, eyes barely open at this point as he peered up at you, his face flush with desire.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked you, his voice laced with concern. It was hard to resist the urge to sink into your warm heat and just pound his orgasm into you, the mark made him feel relentless, but he knew he could hold back.

This was for you, so he would control it. He had to. If Dean couldn't control the mark for you, then there was no hope for him at all.

You smiled down at Dean, ripping the foil open and pinching the condom between your fingers. You gently rolled the condom onto his shaft, smiling to yourself as Dean cursed at the teasing friction, and you positioned his sensitive tip outside of your folds.

Your wet hair was dripping onto Dean's over heated chest, and the hunter clenched his eyes shut as he was over whelmed by your senses.

"I'm fine, Dean." You answered his question, a smile in your voice. It was cute how Dean was worried about your well being, even though he was about to suffocate from his gasps of pleasure beneath you.

"You're doing so good, baby." You praised him, leaning over his chest so you were whispering directly into his ear. He was completely naked beneath you while you had his large while shirt on, and you took pride on the power you had over him.

Dean groaned, roughly kissing you back when you tried to give him a quick peck. You rubbed his lubricated cock-head against your folds, slowly pressing him inside of you.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Dean." You promised him in his ear, and he rolled his head back against the mattress as you slowly sunk down on him. Dean was trying his best to remain still, fingers clutching the sheets as your tight core clenched around him, getting accustomed to his size.

He felt like he was about to blow from just your voice alone, his cock was already dripping before you'd even sunk down on him.

"F- _fuck_ , [ **your name** ].." Was all Dean could vocalize, his voice wrecked as he humped his hips against you, shoving a few more inches inside of the velvet fucking silk glove. "Gonna blow if you keep moving your hips like that.."

Dean's breath was ragged as you fucked his shaft, bottoming out and twisting your hips in small circles, stirring his cock against your walls as you kept an agonizingly slow pace.

You smiled as you heard his shaky warning, and you kissed down on Dean's neck as you slowly slid the long rod out of your heat until just the ribbed head was stuck inside.

"That's the point, Winchester." You smiled against his neck, squeezing gently at his pecks. You felt the marred scarring of some kind of burn, but you were too preoccupied to ask what the mark was.

"I want to make you cum _hard_ while I use your body for my own pleasure.. Wanna make you lose all of that careful control you've guarded yourself with around me.. Want you to let me in _for real_ , Dean Winchester.." You murmured against his neck, panting as you sank down on him, rolling your hips back and forth before pulling him out to the hilt, and sinking back down.

Dean was gasping in pained, needy pants once again as you fucked him into his mattress, catapulting him to his release faster then he's ever been before. Dean began to gently snap his hips into yours, slowly losing some of that control of his. You moaned when he crammed his rod inside of you, and you clenched as hard as you could manage during his release.

Dean was on the brink of shattering beneath you as he came,

" _Nnng_ \-- [ _ **your name**_ ], baby.." And then he was pulling your head towards him by your neck, kissing you forcefully as he began to slowly pump his erect cock into your while he spurted some more into the condom.

You broke the kiss when he released your neck lazily, and you looked down at Dean impressed when you felt he was still hard inside of you. Dean's eyes were barely open as he rubbed your thighs soothingly, a lazy grin on his face.

"Shit, [ **your name]**. You're gonna be the death of me." He thrusted his hips into you, letting you feel how hard he still was. The look on Dean's face was unadulterated love. "And this is the one and only way I will die a happy man." He stroked his hand up your back adoringly,

"Keep going sweetheart. I'm ready for you. Take what you need from me."

The oldest Winchester groaned as you began to fuck yourself to your own leisure against his cock, making Dean come over and over again in the progress.

* * *

. . .

Dean was quick to cum, but he recovered even faster. True to your word, you fucked him for the rest of the night. Dean had been resolved to a gibberish mess, telling you he loved you over and over again as he spilled into condom after condom.

You finished once you came for the fourth time, and you and Dean collapsed into the bed, sated.You no longer felt dirty, disgusting. You felt strong, powerful, and Dean's snores were rumbling against your back as the two of you slept and cuddled. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as he clung to your body in a possessive manner.

You had woken up after a few hours of well needed rest, and now you didn't know what to do.

You loved Dean Winchester, you always have, even when you tried to convince yourself you don't.

That's why you need to leave.

The things Dean was telling you earlier, about the Men of letters, about their files on ghosts, monsters, demons, Gods.

You didn't know what Dean and his brother have been messing around with all this time, but you knew for a fact, you did not want to fuck with Demons. **Gods**.

Dean was slowly waking up from his rest-- the best fucking three hours of sleep he's gotten in so many months he couldn't bother to keep count. He could feel your stiff body in his arms, awake and contemplating something deeply to yourself. Dean ran his hand up your arm, fingertips brushing against your skin.

"You told me before, that the world was a better place with me in it." Dean spoke suddenly, breaking the early mornings silence and startling you.

You jumped, frightened, and he placed his palm on your arm to relax you. You turned your body so you were facing him, and Dean pulled you into a hug, burying your head into his chest.

"Well, my world is a better place with you in it, [ **your name** ]. That's why we can't be together. Because I am in love with you, and with the sort of life that I life, I can't afford to be with you. Because a world without you in it just wouldn't be a world worth saving, and I can't take that risk of getting you involved."

You were surprised by the conviction in his voice, as if these were options he's gone over with himself time and time again, and he was voicing the final conclusion aloud.

He couldn't be with you.

You smiled wryly, because you were supposed to have already known this; Dean Winchester was no good for you, but the sorry bastard managed to get your hopes up again.

You choked on an ironic laugh, feigning indifference.

You rolled out of the bed and pretended to be unfazed. "You're preaching to the choir, old man. I was just sitting here thinking about how I would leave this time. Should I leave a note?"

You were laughing dryly to yourself, and now you were just trying to hurt his feelings.

Dean sat up in his as he watched you pull on a pair of his boxers, the look on his face clearly saying you weren't fooling anyone, but he took your response in stride.

He threw the blankets off of his lap, not bothered by his nakedness. "If _that's_ how you want to play this." He said slowly, the threat in his voice.

He knew you were jus trying to hurt his feelings-- and it _worked_.NThe thought of you leaving just a note behind again made his blood boil.

"But you're not just walking out of here, [ **your name]**. I'll be damned if I let you run off dressed like _that_ so you can hitch hike a ride back to your motel."

He growled, grabbing onto his jeans and pulling them on as he tugged on his black shirt. "I'm taking you back to town whether you like it or not."

You huffed, offended by Dean's bossy demands as you watched him get dressed. You then let out a snort, making our way to his door.

"Fine by me! The sooner I'm out of this shitty prison _nazi_ bunker, the better!" Before stomping away, deciding you'll find the garage yourself as Dean looked for his shoes.

Seriously. Was he living in some kind of panic home?

*

The two of you quietly pulled into the parking lot.

The entire drive had been silent. Not tense, but remorseful. You were saying goodbye. You were saying _goodbye_. And neither one of you guys wanted to say goodbye.

But you were both too stubborn to do otherwise.

Dean pulled the keys from the ignition, letting out a deep sigh as he turned to you.

"You can be mad at me all you want, [ **your name** ]. But this is the way it's got to be. I'm cursed."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I'm not mad at you, Dean." You lied to him gently, looking down at your lap.

"I've known from the start. You're a _cold man_ , Dean Winchester."

Turning your head towards him, you pressed your lips against Dean's unsuspecting mouth in a quick, gentle kiss. Dean was just as responsive as ever, his hands clutching the steering wheel while the other hand grasped your neck. You broke the kiss, looking into his emerald eyes.

"I forgive you, though."

You opened the passenger door and ran out of the impala and towards your hotel. You gently shut your door behind you, locking Dean Winchester out.

Please let this chapter of your life be over for good.

You were ready to settle down in a town and get a real job, maybe take some community college classes. You couldn't afford to run into Dean Winchester again. He had every potential to break you for good.

 

Dean turned his radio up all the way as he drove back to the bunker. His eyes were dry, face hard. The mark was turning his remorse into grief, into raw determination and power. He would taking care of Abbadon. Kill every damned demon that got in his way. He won't die easily, not with this Mark of Cain on his arm. There was no doubt in his mind he would fail. He had nothing left to lose.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys as excited for a third part as I am?! I'm ready for Demon!Dean to come in and ruin everything. He's gonna be pissed he let you go, and thinks its about time he got somethingh he wanted for a change :b
> 
> Or something like that. I haven't started writing it. So let me know what you think of this chapter, and if you'd like a third installment to this series! I think these two parts are good on their own. 
> 
> Thanks for enjoying, if you liked what you read! c:


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